The Heist
by abstractedcharm
Summary: When Rose Tyler is dragged back into his Universe, the Doctor knows something is up. There's a Crack in the Wall of the Time and Space and an ancient force is manipulating the people he loves to an end he can't fathom. For some reason, it revolves around a girl named Amelia Pond. (A post-S4 rewrite with elements from S5-7, but not a replication of the plot.)


**The Heist**

_abstractedcharm_

**One**

"I'm so sorry, Rose. I'm sorry." Desperation cracked River Song's voice. Through her heavy lids she could make out a faint outline of the other woman, imprisoned on her elaborate throne as the thirteen tubes that were pinned into her skin began to glow a yellow-golden light. They travelled across the small space between the two prisoners, imbuing River with an overwhelming sensation that was both breathtaking and agonizing.

As River convulsed from the strain of that power, Rose seem to light up from within, her skin shimmering as if she had been brushed over with a thin layer of gold. _It was her eyes that rendered River breathless__._ Eyes stormy and divine. People feared the Doctor, shuddering in the wake of the Vengeful God, but he seemed so mortal in the face of _her_.

"Oh dear god," River gasped. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She was suffocating, the presence devouring her as if she was nothing but space debris in the face of a black hole. But River had nowhere to run in their cramped cube prison. She had created her own coffin. "What have I done?"

* * *

_**2 years and 7 months Ago – Linear Time**_

Her first conscious breath was so cold that Rose felt like she had been thrown into the icy Norwegian waters. All the muscles in her body spasmed desperately, her arms and legs jerking about, suddenly aware of their surrounding. She opened her eyes but saw nothing but blinding white, and her mind was blissfully empty for a split second, calm, peaceful. Then she noticed it—

_what was it, breaking the cool balm of that emptiness?_

—a harsh jagged line tainting her white paradise. Her heartbeat quickened when the crack widened as if it were the jaw of some terrible monster.

She heard screaming—who was screaming? It sounded like the Doctor—_John_? He was screaming her name.

"Rose? Rose!"

Color wrenched its way into her vision, and the white disappeared, replaced by the image of two concerned faces. Two very familiar concerned faces.

"Rose? That's her name isn't it?" the woman asked the elderly man.

"Yeah I remember that much," the man answered, "Look! She's wakin' up!"

"Good. She needs to get out of here before Donna gets here," the woman huffed impatiently.

Donna? Right! Donna's family, the Nobles. Must be her mum and grandpa.

"Donna's family…" she managed to say, her voice weak and raspy, "How…"

"We found you collapsed on our front steps," the elderly man—what was his name?—informed her with a kind smile, "Thought the Doctor would be around. He wouldn'ta left you all alone would he?"

"I don't…" Rose muttered, "I don't…know…" He did. He left her. But not alone. Where was John?

"S'alright," the man said gently, "Take it easy. How 'bout a cuppa, eh? That'd help. Sylvia—?"

"I'll go put on the kettle," Sylvia sighed, and stood up and walked away, presumably to the kitchen.

The elderly man helped Rose sit up. Her vision wasn't so much disoriented as it was coated with a sense of surrealism, not that the very ordinary living room of the Nobles was very surreal in design.

"You're—you're Donna's grandpa?"

"I am," he answered.

"You know me?"

"'Course I do! 'Member? Saved our lives during that last invasion with all the planets in the sky. Wilf. Wilfred Mott."

"Yeah, I remember that," Rose said, nodding, "I remember. You didn't have a…a _webcam_."

Wilf grinned sheepishly at her, shrugging apologetically for her troubles. "So," he said, "Where's the Doctor, eh? You're one of his friends, aren't ya? I'm lookin' for'im."

"The Doctor?" she asked, surprised, "He's not…Wilf, what year is it?"

Wilf seemed delighted by the question. "You time travelers," he said with a pleased sigh, "The year is 2010. December 23rd to be exact."

"And…you don't know who Pete Tyler is, do you?"

"No, never heard of'im. Who's he?"

Rose blinked several times, her mind circling around the realization that she was—_she was back_.

Was she dreaming? She so often dreamt about waking up in her old universe to learn that everything that happened since Canary Wharf had been a long, bizarre nightmare. But waking up on a couch in the Nobles' living room had never been part of any permutation of her dreams.

Wilf was beaming at her, looking oddly adorable in his red wool cap. The sharp squeal of a kettle pulled her eyes towards the kitchen. She caught sight of a series of framed photos of the Noble family on the wall. Donna's frank face jumped out at her and Rose had the sudden image of the redhead squabbling with the Doctor in the Tardis, matching the Doctor's word for word. A ghost of a smile graced Rose's chapped lips before the realization dawned on her with absolute certainty that she was not dreaming.

It hit her with sharp disappointment. She was _back _and yet she couldn't muster up the energy to be thrilled. The jolt of excitement that had rendered her breathless the first time she realized she had arrived in the right universe—and that she would be seeing the Doctor again— barely fizzled now. Instead, Rose felt a strange bemusement infused with bitter heart ache. She thought of John. Was John back there, alone, frantically searching for her? Storming through Torchwood with a desperate obsession to find a way to get her back, like she had done before? And where was the Doctor? Did _he_ do this?

"Wilf, you said you were lookin' for the Doctor?" she asked.

Wilf nodded.

"Why?"

Wilf's expression darkened slightly, his mouth pursed with grim anxiety. "There's…something comin' Rose. I can feel it. I've seen it. I need to find the Doctor."

Rose frowned. "Where's Donna? Is he with her?"

Sorrow flitted across the old man's face, and he seemed to retreat for a moment, lost in some miserable thought. Rose felt a stab of panic.

"What?" she asked, "What is it? What's happened?"

Suddenly the front door opened and Donna's distinctive voice filled the room, "Gramps! Mum? I'm here!"

Donna walked into the living room, shedding her gray pea coat on the coat hook and pulling off her gloves. She was mumbling complaints, her tone irritated and sharp, and she was so engrossed in her own rant that she did not notice Rose until she was sitting on the couch directly across from her.

"Donna," Rose greeted, smiling warmly. She was surprised Donna was back at home; Rose thought she and the Doctor would be flying across the universe being fantastic and trying to out-talk each other.

Donna made a face. "Who're you?" she demanded rather callously.

Rose's face fell, her eyes wide and confused. "Donna—"

"She's a friend!" Wilf interrupted quickly, "Donna, meet Rose. She's the new girl who works at the Senior Center. Rose, this is my granddaughter, Donna."

"So you're bringing home blondes now are you?" Donna playfully accused her grandfather, earning an uneasy chuckle from the old man. She grinned at Rose. "This old codger giving you any trouble?"

Rose's lips twitched into a semblance of a smile. She could barely mask her confusion in her stilted reply: "Uh no. He's…he's wonderful."

"He is, isn't he?" Donna agreed fondly. Rose nodded.

"Well, anyways," Wilf started energetically, "Rose was escorting me to a senior's event downtown. Best be going, right, Rose? Don't want to keep'em waiting. It's salsa night."

"Oh I can give you two a lift," Donna offered, "Mum, Shawn and I are going last minute Christmas shopping, gramps, we could drop you off."

"NO!" the protest slipped out of Wilf's mouth much too ardently, making Rose wince and Donna jump. "I mean, Donna, luv, you just go and have fun. Anyways, Rose is here to take me."

"Yes, I am," Rose added quickly, glancing meaningfully at Wilf, who pleaded with his eyes to play along. Rose grudgingly did. "Let's go, Wilf." She got up, nodding stiffly, "Bye, Donna."

"Alright, bye!" Donna mumbled, waving a lazy hand as Rose and Wilf shuffle quickly out the door.

Once outside, Rose stopped and turned around, her expression hard and angry. "_Wilf, what is going on?_"

* * *

While Rose was trying to unravel the truth of Donna's amnesia, the Ood informed the Doctor that his song was _changing_. He grazed his eyes over the Elder Ood sitting in the circle, their languid eyes entranced, swaying with the rise of the smoke.

"Changing?" the Doctor repeated, his brows furrowed, "From what?"

"Every night we dream. Bad dreams, Doctor. Terrible dreams."

"Alright," mumbled the Doctor, wearing a concerned frown, "Dream. Bad ones. Let's hear'em then. "

Then the Elders lifted their hands and joined them, chanting in their wispy voices: "You will join, you will join."

The Doctor joined them – and the moment his hands completed the circle, a sharp pain exploded in his frontal lobe. An image of a laughing man made him break the connection and he withdrew his hands as if he had set it on a burning stove. His face was frozen with terror and disbelief. "That man is dead," he said, in breathless horror.

"There is yet more," the Elder Ood continued, "Join us. See what we see. Hear what we hear."

The Doctor completed the circle once more—and the timelines hit him with an excruciating force—

The Master filled his head with that insane laughter, but he quieted enough for the Doctor to hear a faint female voice, singing. Puzzled, he concentrated on it, and heard the words:_  
_

…_Seven for a secret never to be told__  
__Eight for a wish__  
__Nine for a kiss__  
__Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss__…._

A shrill scream fractured the trance-like rhythm of those words. Images flashed in his mind like a film fast forwarding, a blur of faces he might have recognized and places he might have known. He wondered if the Ood were swishing around in his private memories because every streak of blonde and pink filled him with a wrenching regret. It could not have been a vision of the future the Oods were showing him—and if it was, then he had more to fear then the resurrection of the Master.

"Events are taking shape, so many events, so many years ago, so many years in the future—yet everything is fluid. Dangerously fluid. There are many many actors in this play of destiny and power. But first—there is a man…"

The last thing the Doctor expected to see was the image of a morose looking Wilfred Mott. He thought he caught sight of a familiar silhouette and splay of dirty blonde hair, but the image flickered away, focusing mostly on Wilf.

"Wilfred!" he exclaimed, "Is he alright? What about Donna, is she safe?"

The Elder Ood answered, "You should not have delayed, for the lines of convergence are being drawn across the Earth. Across all of time. Even now.. The king is in the house."

The image of a well groomed man and his daughter flashed in his mind.

The Doctor frowned, puzzled. "I don't know who they are."

The Elder Ood continued, "They are the tip. They are only the beginning."

"Of what?"

"Something more is happening, Doctor. The Master is part of a greater design, which is merely the beginning. The fledgling flies through the crack. A shadow falls over all of creation. It has been possessed, inside turned out. The Ood have gained this power to see through time because time is bleeding."

A shiver raced down the Doctor's spine as the Oods' eyes glowed red. The unsettling image of red-eyed Ood conjured memories of two people who had been ripped away from him.

"This darkness heralds the Song of Change, Doctor," the Oods chanted together, "The Song of the End."

"The End?"

"Yes. The End. The End of Time itself."

* * *

In her history of bizarre days, Rose was sure this day was to become the strangest of them all. If not for suddenly finding herself in the Nobles' living room and Donna not remembering her, then for the self proclaimed Silver Cloaks who had put out all their aging feelers to find the Doctor. The gregarious group of geriatrics seemed foolishly hopeful about finding one the universe's most slippery beings with their network made of questionable eyesight and aching limbs. Rose had the dimension cannon and the knowledge of time travel tech at her disposal and it had taken _her_ forever to track down the Doctor.

On top of the Silver Cloaks, Wilf told her about Donna. Stunned, Rose could say nothing at first. The sight of Wilf's crestfallen expression crushed her and fanned the nascent flame of anger that had been growing ever since she considered that _he_ could be the reason she was ripped away from her life and John. A quiet, more reasonable side of her said that was impossible—the Doctor would never do that, at least the Doctor she thought she knew. But the Doctor she knew would have never left Donna the way he did either.

"And that's it?" she asked Wilf, her tone harsh, "He just left her like that? He just gave up?"

Wilf answered with a small, unsure shrug, but his expression softened. He seemed to feel validated by Rose's apparent anger and concern for Donna.

"He said…said there was nothing more he could do…" Wilf mumbled sadly.

"Well he's wrong." The words spilled from lips before she could stop them. She winced when she saw Wilf's eyes light up with hope.

"You mean there's a way?" Wilf asked with astonishment, "You saying there's a way we can save Donna? Get her memory back?"

Rose bit her lip. Damn her stupid mouth. She didn't actually know—just because it worked with John didn't mean it'd work with Donna. She bet her life that it would, but she didn't want to promise anything. Broken promises and disappointments cut deep and did more damage than good. "There might be."

"Can you talk to'im about it?" Wilf implored, "The Doctor? Get'im to do more, maybe? It hurts me to see Donna this way. She was so happy, Rose, so happy with who she was. Now sometimes I see her just…gazing with this blank, disappointed look in her eyes. That light she had when she traveled with'im, it's diminished." The old man paused to pull himself together a bit, wiping the tears welling in his eyes with his thumb and index finger. When he spoke again, his voice trembled slightly, "I wish I could just see that light again."

Rose smiled kindly and nodded. "'Course Wilf. I would even if you didn't ask. We all owe it to her. We'll talk to the Doctor together, yeah?

The day became even more bizarre when someone's friend of a friend, or something, rang a very vibrant old woman named Minnie to tell her that a man in a brown coat with a blue police box had just been spotted.

Rose couldn't believe it. A couple of hours with a handful of septuagenarians and octogenarians were all it took to find him? Boy, the rest of universe must be feeling stupid now. UNIT and Torchwood might want to take note.

Now the news of the Doctor sighting had the bus nearly speeding down the streets with its occupants twittering excitedly about the Doctor. From the sound of it, none of them knew the Doctor was an alien from outer space, but they trusted Wilf's words and believed him when he said, quite gravely, the Doctor was important. Rose was surprised by their efforts and warmed by their complete belief in Wilf and the Doctor.

For Rose, there was yet another factor to deal with—she hadn't seen the Doctor in over a year, not since he left her (presumably forever) on that beach with John. Rose had given up all hope of ever seeing him again. In place of that hope grew bitter resentment which remained merely a seedling thanks to the great warmth and love John filled in her. And now to be ripped away from John and thrown back here—Rose didn't know how to feel—sad, happy, excited, angry? Factions of her fought for control, but they all radiated with hurt, and all she wanted now was to crawl back into bed with John, arguing about whether or not the cake should be banana-flavored. Some deep part of her was alarmed by her dismissal of the Doctor—the Doctor who used to be her world, who moved the suns and moons in her universe—now the thought of seeing him made her sick to her stomach.

The bus stopped at the industrial part of town, and everyone shuffled off happily in search of the Doctor. Rose did not move, and Wilf, noticing his blonde friend's almost dazed expression, lingered behind.

"What's wrong Rose?" he asked, frowning, "Come on. You want to see the Doctor don't you?"

"Do you think you've actually found him?" she asked, "Governments have tried to find him…and…"

Wilf shrugged sheepishly. "Hoping to be lucky I guess," he said with a goofy grin, "Got to talk to him, don't we? 'Bout what's to come. 'Bout the dreams."

"You never told me what they were," said Rose.

Wilf seemed to wilt somewhat. He released a heavy sigh and said, "Bad dreams, Rose. Horrible. A man laughing. A woman. And the Doctor. I don't know what's comin', but it ain't good, and we need him."

Rose nodded. "Yeah, we always do." She stood and grinned at Wilf. "Then let's go get him. Go on ahead, I'll follow."

* * *

The Doctor would agree with Rose when she would later describe that day as the most bizarre that she had ever experienced, mostly due to the geriatric horde that descended upon him while he was chasing the Master. Wilf was at the head of this group.

"Did we do it?" an old man asked Wilf eagerly, "Is it him?"

"Tall, thin and big brown coat," said a second man.

The Doctor's eyes were wild and befuddled by this sudden onslaught of very old humans. He glared at Wilfred and whispered to him, furiously, "Wilfred? Have you told them who I am? You promised!"

"No no, just said you were a doctor, that's all," Wilf replied, "And might I say sir, it is an honor to see you again!" The old man saluted the Doctor, which the alien returned with a wry smile.

But it was a new voice that startled him, replacing the buzzing irritation he was feeling with a sudden chill. He might have paled a bit, like he had just seen a ghost—except the Doctor would never be afraid of ghosts, but he was terrified of that voice—and what that voice meant to his two bruised hearts.

"Blimey, it really worked. The Silver Cloak really worked. They really found you." Rose Tyler stood only a little way from the group, her expression a mixture of impressed and surprised. The Doctor forgot to breathe for a beat or two, which was thankfully exactly what his respiratory bypass was useful for.

"We found you," Minnie twittered happily, "'Cause Wilf phoned Netty , who phoned June, and her sister…"

The rest of Minnie's words were lost in the deluge of emotions now possessing the Doctor. He could only stare at Rose in amazement, in fear, in thrall, as she looked back at him with uncertainty and hesitance.

_This is impossible. _

The Doctor was knocked out of his trance when Minnie smacked his bum with a little giggle.

"Oh you are a looker," the old woman said coyly. The Doctor frowned, irritated, as Minnie went on, "I'm Minnie the Menace. It's been a long time since I had a photo with a handsome man. Come on, dear, let's have a photograph."

Before he could babble a protest, the others started to aggregate around him for the spontaneous photo op. He was too much in a daze himself to protest, and Wilf, trying in vain to stop the whole affair, was merely pushed to the side by the overzealous members of the Silver Cloak.

The Doctor glanced at Rose, perhaps as a plea for a bit of help, only to find her biting down an amused grin. The grimness of her previous countenance seemed to lift at the sight of him being molested by the old ladies, and the Doctor felt himself suddenly less annoyed.

When the Doctor managed to disentangle himself from his gaggle of admirers, Rose had disappeared. He was overcome with a sudden melancholy as he considered her previous appearance a figment of his imagination, which was not an uncommon occurrence for him—that is until Minnie piped up, "Well, where has Rose gone off to, then? Wilf, didn't you say she was a very good friend of this Doctor here?"

"You saw her too?" the Doctor asked, perking up like a meerkat, "Blonde girl? You saw her?"

"'Course we did, silly," Minnie answered, "She came with Wilf."

"She's headed back to the bus," Wilf said, shrugging at the Doctor, "Said you enjoy your photo op, Doctor."

The Doctor could have rolled his eyes, but he merely grinned, a terrifying happiness possessing him now. It was impossible that Rose could be back, especially when the Ood were mysteriously going on about the End of Time. But impossibility lost all its meaning these days. It seems nothing and everything was impossible.

He hurried ahead of his welcoming party to the bus, following Wilf's rather spotty directions, his coat flying behind him like a great cape. His mind stumbled over dozen of questions. _Rose Tyler, how? How? How have you done this, you brilliant beautiful woman? What's happened to _him_? Rose Tyler, why?_

He slowed down when the bus came into view. A young blonde woman was leaning against it, her hands in the pockets of her cropped black leather jacket, digging at the gravelly ground with her heels. She looked up as he skidded to a stop a few feet from her.

Their gazes met, electrifying the both of them with a gamut of emotions that buzzed under their painfully controlled exteriors. The Doctor's double heartbeat drummed against his chest with an anxious tempo while Rose Tyler's wide eyes betrayed her emotions.

He wanted to rush up and embrace her, to touch her, to confirm her realness. But there was something in her expression that conjured an invisible wall between them which forced him to come to a sudden halt, filling the space between them with painful tension.

_Rose Tyler I love you._

He chocked. He could never say it. There was something about his Time Lord tongue that refused to let those words escape his mouth.

"Doctor," she greeted, straightening up.

"Rose," the Doctor returned, breathlessly, "Rose Tyler…"

He took a careful e step towards her, just a slight movement in her direction. At first she looked terrified. If there hadn't been a bus behind her, the Doctor didn't doubt she would have jumped back, away from him. So the Doctor stopped, hurt and confused by her reaction.

Rose was trying hard to be angry and not be his Rose Tyler, because he had left her on that beach. After everything, he let her go so easily.

She wasn't Rose Tyler of the Doctor and Rose in the Tardis anymore. She was Rose Tyler of Rose and John of the strange adventures and odd contraptions made in Lab 040 of Torchwood. She was Rose Tyler of the Tyler Estate and big sister Rose Tyler and newly engaged Rose Tyler, no longer Dame Rose Tyler of the Powell Estate.

Rose tried to force it all down; she couldn't let those old wounds open up again. She tried to be indifferent, to be cold, to be angry, and for a moment she thought she succeeded.

He said her name again, so similar yet different from the way John said her name, but exactly like she had remembered and her confines broke. The emotions that overwhelmed her was painful, yearning; her chest ached with unmourned loss and unsaid feelings. That horrible Crack flashed into her mind and she could hear John screaming her name as she was dragged into a white nothingness…or was that the Doctor?

_Oh Doctor._

Rose quickly brought her hands up to her mouth to muffle an escaped sob that called out for him. "_Doctor_…"

The Doctor rushed forward and embraced her. It was as if some incredible burden was lifted from his shoulders the moment he had her in his arms, her face buried in his chest. She was sobbing but tried to stifle herself in his chest.

"I'm here," he murmured into her hair, "_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry_." _For everything_, he meant._ For deciding to leave you on that beach. For all of this. For me. _

And Rose understood.


End file.
